


Of Independence and Northern Lights

by Klokkenspel



Series: Historical Hetalia by Klokkenspel [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Althing, Cod Wars, Denmark-Norway, Gen, Historical Hetalia, Historically Accurate, History, Kalmar Union, M/M, NATO, Nordic 5 - Freeform, Nordics, Northern Lights, Protestant Reformation, Volcanoes, World War 1, World War 2, black death, treaty of kiel, we are number one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 13:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14955623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klokkenspel/pseuds/Klokkenspel
Summary: Iceland, known for his volcanoes, glaciers, northern lights, and quiet, seclusive nature that sometimes boiled in fits of anger.Today, people cheered, waved flags, paraded. And behind it all, with a small smile, the Icelandic personification watched.But it wasn't always this way. Like any other story of a nation, there was much, much more than what is told. Parts that require hours, day, years even, of research to find. And some parts of the tale are so lost in time that no human could possibly hope to uncover or understand them.That's alright.Iceland thinks, looking out and over Reykjavik.It's what I'm here for. I will remember for them.Iceland, the country and personification, throughout the centuries.(The notes are important if you want to understand the various name changes as well as historical events, unless you're some expert with Icelandic history. There are also some random Hetalia tidbits explained that I incorporated in the story.)





	Of Independence and Northern Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I've corrected some spelling and grammar and revised some sentences. No matter how often I read this I always finds a bunch of new mistakes every time. My sister just read this and pointed out a bunch, strangely all clustered around the same area.

When he first woke, he was tiny. New to the world and curious of the wonders that lay before him. The surrounding trees and rocks seemed large and intimidating. He spent hours wandering what he knew was his territory, his _land_. When he first encountered a settlement, and then people, he felt an instinctive connection with them. But they also seemed so different, leaving a sort of loneliness inside him.

For a long time while he explored, taking in new sights and interacting with various settlers, some of which gave him a dismissive glance, and others which gave him the occasional bit of food, or clothing.

Still, it felt as though he was missing something. One day, he was sitting on a cliff, overlooking the sea. Ísland-he knew by now it was his name, wondered what lay on the other side of the vast, expansive ocean, which seemed as never ending as the night sky.

Suddenly, two hands picked him up, raising him high into the air. Panic suddenly clouded him.

"HEY NOR! LOOK WHO I FOUND-OW!" The hands dropped Ísland back on the rocks, and he scrambled past a flailing pair of legs.

Ísland didn't get far before another hand grabbed his arm.

"It's alright, we mean you no harm." Ísland looked up, blinking. A figure slowly crouched down to his eye level, not letting go of his arm. Ísland felt a connection with him, different than the one he felt with the settlers, but equally strange and strong.

"But Nor! He kicked me! In the-the balls!" The previous man limped towards them, clutching a rather sensitive part of his body. Ísland could now see that they seemed young by human standards, ages comparable to the young boys that often played outside. The one that grabbed him didn't look any older than 13, and the one called "Dan" seemed only a year or two older.

"And I'm certain you deserved it." Nor spared Dan only a glance before looking back at Ísland. Indigo eyes stared into violet ones.

"Yes." Nor said quietly. "He's the one." Ísland felt increasingly uncomfortable.

"So Ísland has one of its own, eh?. Well, what are we going to call him in front of the humans?" Dan asked. Ísland tried to jerk away, but Nor's grip held firm.

"It is alright." Nor murmured. "You are one of us, so we will take care of you."

"T-take...care?" Ísland understood them, but still found himself have trouble speaking. What did they mean, one of them? Nor put up his own hands to cup Ísland's face.

"You are the land, the people. A representation of what they were, are, and will be. Your name is Ísland, and you are a personified nation like us. You are young, and we will help you grow."

"Norrvegr, he's still a tiny kid. He doesn't understand any of your waxing poetic." Dan chuckled. Ísland, meanwhile, was getting increasingly frustrated.

"Wh-hat? "

"Ya see, kid. You are different from the humans. You're immortal. That's about all there is to it." Ísland choose to accept this as the best explanation he would be getting.

Nodding slightly, he tugged on his arm yet again. This time, Nor let go.

"You need a human name." Nor said.

"H-human name?" Ísland mused. What was that?

"Well, you are different from the humans, right?" Dan asked. Ísland nodded. "Well, they know, but they don't know why or how. They don't understand that you are Ísland. So you are not to be called Ísland in front of them. I say we call you Erik."

"That sounds lazy." Nor commented. "I don't like it. How about...Emil?"

"Emil? That's certainly...different." Dan said. "I don't think I've heard anyone called that before."

"It's a variation of another name, from a far-off land. You haven't been there before." Nor explained. "What do you think, Ísland?" Ísland considered for a moment. Emil sounded like a nice name...and any of Nor's suggestions were probably better than Dan's.

He nodded.

"What about a last name?" Dan prompted.

"He can just use ours. We are his big brothers, after all." Nor said. He looked at Ísland. "When in front of humans, you are Emil Ingeson, alright?"

Ísland nodded.

And thus, his time of wandering came to a close.

~*~

They were good brothers, for the most part. Though Ísland only ever saw Nor-or Sigurðr, as he was known by, as a true brother, much to the dismay of Magni, or Danemark.

Ísland was introduced a few months later to Svea, who was known also as Bergljót to his crew. He stood tall, with a creepy aura unlike the more serene and mystical one Sigurðr had, but Emil learned in time not to be bothered by his presence.

Ísland was also introduced to Ingólfur Arnarsson, who was the first to settle his land. He died shortly thereafter, but his son introduced what, unbeknownst to Ísland, would become a very important part of his culture.

"What's that, big brother?" Ísland pointed to a group of chieftains, all gathering into a building. They were at Þingvellir, and all the people, whether involved with the meeting or not, were staring nervously.

"Focus, Ísland. What do you feel?" Nor replied in his usual vague way. Ísland sighed.

"I feel...excited? Apprehensive? But I don't know why..."

"You are feeling your people's emotions. Whenever a majority of them collectively feel the same way about something, you will experience that feeling too." Nor explained. "You will also have a better awareness about what's happening."

Ísland, being the smart child he was, realized what his big brother way hinting at.

"Should I join them?" He asked worriedly. "If they are my people, surely I should be involved." Nor smiled, showing he was pleased with Ísland's analysis.

"It is best not to be too involved with the humans, but it would be good for you to have this experience. I sense this gathering will become important to you later on."

The moment they passed through the doors, pairs of eyes set on them.

"Sigurðr, I was wondering if you would come." One of the chieftains greeted. Sigurðr nodded, and gestured to Emil.

"This is Emil, a younger brother of mine. He is to watch and hear along with me." A few of the chieftains frowned.

"But he is so young-" One began, only to be silenced by Sigurðr's glare.

"You dare question me?" He said, in a tone soft yet dangerous. The room temperature suddenly seemed to take a steep plunge, like fish off a waterfall. It did not go unnoticed by the chieftains.

"N-No! Of course not!" The other chieftains all quickly nodded in agreement. Sigurðr seemed to survey the room one last time, searching for any dissatisfaction before nodding and taking a seat. Emil followed suit, with many questions.

One of the chieftains cleared their throat.

"May the Alþing begin."

~*~

"Nor." Ísland began once the Alþing had been dismissed. "Why are they so afraid of you?" Nor smiled.

"Ísland, you must understand that here, we are gods among mortals. I alone am older than all of them combined, though I look barely older than a decade, and you will be too. My declaration of you as my brother guarantees than you will be known as one of us. Our powers are incomprehensible to them."

"You mean like your magic?" In addition to the various trolls, faeries, spirits, and other various magical creatures that obey Nor, he also had the ability to cast a variety of spells, which often took part in the disappearance of certain people who have threatened Emil over the years. Ísland seemed to have the same power, though to a lesser degree.

"Yes. It was important that you attend the Alþing. It will be of use later." Nor sighed. "What is important, Ísland, is that you must never delude yourself into thinking you are a god, because you are not. None of us are. Because our fates are decided by our people. Much suffering will come from that."

Ísland nodded wordlessly. Nor looked up at the sky and shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts that plagued his mind.

"Let us not worry about that for now. Come, I will take you on a raid. Our southern neighbors will be most glad to see us." Nor headed for the coast, where their ship was docked. Ísland followed suit excitedly. He always loved watching big brother defeat Ængland with his superior magic.

~*~

"What do you think, Sigurðr?" Magnus asked. They watched from the shadows of the alley while Erik talked to the town of what he called Grœnland. Sigurðr hummed as a light breeze tickled Emil's nose.

"I think this land isn't as bountiful as it appears to be. From the way he talks, I'd say he making it seem more fertile than it is, to draw in more settlers." Sigurðr paused. "But I think a settlement may be possible."

"Should we join them?" Emil asked. Sigurðr tilted his head.

"I don't see why not." He mused. "It'd probably be worth checking out."

"That sounds awesome!" Magni smiled excitedly, and ran towards the Erik.

"That idiot." Sigurðr muttered. He began to make his way there, and Emil followed.

"Erik!" Magni called, skidding to a stop beside the red-haired explorer. He and the other humans started, obviously not expecting one of the "gods" to interfere, as they normally didn't.

From the looks of it, Erik wasn't even sure who Magni truly was.

"Who are you, kid?" He asked. The other, more knowing humans gasped at the display of ignorance, which Emil always found rather funny. The humans treated them always with such fear or reverence.

"Please, Erik, I implore you to be more respectful! Magni is one of our Æsir descendants. He is a god, and much older than you." One of Erik's new crew turned to Magni.

"Please, forgive us. Your kind is much less well known on mainland, with it being so large..."

"That's alright!" Magni smiled cheerfully. "But what's this I hear about a new land to settle?"

"Well you see, Magni," Erik the Red began, seeing an opportunity, "It is what I have called Grœnland. In exile I traveled and explored, seeing prey and farmland, so many opportunities. Would be a waste not to settle it, yes?"

Before Magni could reply, Sigurðr reached them and cut himself in.

"It's not as plentiful and you describe." He said flatly. Emil pushed himself between two men and slid up to join his brother. The humans were glancing at each other nervously, and Erik look absolutely terrified. Sigurðr paused.

"But-I see that there is potential. If enough men set out, then there could be a successful permanent settlement, albeit with a few shipfuls of men lost to Aegir. So the choice is, would you face likely death with the potential reward of land and glory if you live." The surrounding people were silent as they took a moment to process what Sigurðr just told them. 

Finally, one of the men raised his hand and exclaimed, "I will go!" One by one, men agreed, and Erik smile only grew wider as more and more signed up.

For nearly the entire year, Erik convinced more and more people to come. When he announced they were ready, Sigurðr had them gather at the rocky shore and looked over all of them, dismissing the ones that were sick or otherwise unfit. In the end, there were about five hundred men and women left.

Sigurðr sat down on the rocks next to Emil once he was done, gazing out at the ocean towards the direction of Grœnland.

"Will that be enough?" Erik asked, standing a little way behind him.

"Enough?" Sigurðr murmured. He seemed lost in some kind of thought.

"Enough to settle this Grœnland, big brother." Emil explained anxiously. Were the feelings of his people rubbing off him again?

"Hm..." Sigurðr glanced back at the men and women, all awaiting his response.

"Yes, it should be. The signs look good."

A collective sigh of relief was heard. Emil jumped up.

"Big brother, does this mean we'll go with them?" He looked up pleadingly.

Sigurðr shared a glance with Magni, was standing next to Erik. 

"Yes. You may come as well. It will be good experience, to see more of the world rather than the same few raiding spots."

Erik got up onto a tall rock and waved at the men and woman.

"Attention! We have the favor of the gods on our side! They have given approval, and will be joining us with their blessings on this journey!"

The crowd cheered. Emil held on to Sigurðr's hand bouncing with excitement.

They were going to Grœnland.

~*~

"This is...quite a storm." Sigurðr gazed out at the ocean, ignoring the fierce wind and pelting rain even as the rest struggled in a mad dash to bail out water and make sure food stores were kept dry. A loud rumble of thunder could be heard, accompanied by the signature lightning strike.

"You don't say." Magni paused briefly to catch his breath before continuing to help the crew, something which Emil was sure they were very grateful for. "Mind helping out?"

Sigurðr sighed and tightened his hold around Emil, who was buried under his cloak. The storm had been going on for a good two hours now, and showed no signs of stopping. Sigurðr unclasped his cloak completely and wrapped it around Emil before heading for the front deck, easily side-stepping anyone who accidentally got in his way.

Emil watched as, for a few minutes Sigurðr simply stood there and mouthed something. All of the sudden, the world seemed...quieter. Emil wasn't sure how to describe it, but it felt as though a peace had settled, somehow, that had been disturbed by the storm. The thunder and harsh winds creased, replaced by light breezes and a gentle drizzle.

After bailing out the last of the water, the entire crew dropped down with a sigh of relief. Magni gave Emil a large hug as he tried to peak out from under the cloak.

Erik staggered up the Sigurðr, who was still standing at the front with soaking wet hair and a slumped look.

"Thank you...for saving all out lives." The rest of the humans nodded in agreement.

Sigurðr took a deep breath.

"25 ships started out. I sense...that we have lost some of them." He turned again, to the horizon. The sun was just beginning to set, after another long day. "The night will be peaceful, and we will carry on. A majority will make it now, I'm sure. Erik, your settlement idea does have its merits after all."

Emil slumped against Magni, who patted his head. They will make it.

~*~

"This place is great." Magni said, stuffing his mouth full of freshly roasted seal meat. The three brothers sat a little ways off from the humans, Erik still making his claim as Chieftain. In total, 14 out of the 25 ship had survived.

"It'll last for a good few centuries." Sigurðr agreed. Emil half-choked on the nut he was eating.

"Way to ruin the mood, Nor. A few centuries is nothing! That's how old we are!" Magni exclaimed.

"Should we tell them?" Ísland glanced at the newly arrived settlers. Nor shook his head.

"It's best that the humans don't know. It won't happen in their lifetime anyway."

~*~

It happened almost completely by accident. Ísland was running through the snow after a rabbit when he fell down a few meters and subsequently hit his shoulder on a large rock formation. Then, he smashed his knees on the cold, frozen ground.

 _Way to go, Ísland._ He thought to himself through the pain. _Nor won't let you out of his sight for the next century._

Glancing around, he could see that he was trapped on three sides by tall rock cliffs, which had been hidden by the snow. The fourth side was open and Ísland cautiously crawling out using his good arm.

He was then faced with a large, open coast, with waves lapping at the rocks.

But what surprised him most was the birds. He'd seen them before-they were puffins, with brightly colored beaks, black feathers, and a white underbelly. But there were _so many of them._

All lined up on cliffs and rocks. It was an endless sea of puffins, all squawking and honking. The noise felt deafening, yet silly. Now that he took a closer look, Ísland realized their burrows all contained a single round, white egg. _Oh_. It must be mating season. Ísland remembered Nor telling him about it once, how some birds would gather in huge flocks to find a mate.

He sighed. It didn't fix the problem he had now. The broken bones would heal in a few days, but he had to find someone.

A piercing shriek ripped the air. Ísland quickly looked up, and realized in he had noticed a white figure that was circling overhead. A gyrfalcon, which was now slashing its beak and talons at a puffin right next to him, which, strangely enough, had a black belly. Ísland watched as blood trickled through its feathers, and a moment later the gyrfalcon carried it high into the air.

Being a personification, even one that looked like a 7-year-old, Ísland was naturally not to bothered by the scene. After all, he'd seem far too many bloody deaths by Nor's hand to be traumatized by what was merely nature playing out. However, what did interest him was the egg that was left behind. He crawled over and reached into the nest to pick it up, studying the round edges.

He'd eaten puffins before, but now Ísland wondered what an egg would taste like. If its parent was dead, then surely it wouldn't survive anyway?

"Ísland!" He turned around, still clutching the egg, to see Nor weaving among a sea of black. "What are you doing here? I told you not to wander off!"

He checked Ísland over for injuries, wincing when he got to his shoulder and knees. Ísland squirmed a bit as Nor picked him up. 

"I'm fine, really! It doesn't hurt that much." It hurts a lot, but there was no way he was telling Nor that. Nor frowned, obviously not convinced, but didn't ask more questions. Instead, Nor carried him back to the settlement. While he muttered complaints under his breath, Ísland was secretly glad he didn't have to drag himself back.

Back at the settlement, Nor washed Ísland's knee, clearing any gravel and blood.

"It should heal in two or three days, but be careful from now on." Ísland nodded and set the egg, which he'd just remembered he was holding, onto the table.

"I was wondering what it would taste like." He explained. Nor examined the egg. 

"Are you sure the chick is alright with that?" He asked. An amused tome had crept into his voice, which Ísland didn't like.

"It's not like it can tell me." Ísland huffed. Nor seemed to be trying to warm the egg with his hand, peering at it closely.

"Big brother, what are you doing?" Ísland asked. A small cracking sound was the reply. Smiling, Nor placed the egg in Ísland's hands. A few moments later, pieces of the eggshell broke off. For several minutes neither of them said a thing, but simply watched a beak slowly poked its way out of the eggshell. At last, a very wet, very _alive_ puffling flopped out and onto Ísland's hands.

It opened its mouth and started screeching.

"HEY! HEY! NOT ALRIGHT! NOT ALRIGHT!"

Ísland nearly dropped it. He then glared at Nor furiously.

"You enchanted it!"

"No, little brother. That is how pufflings usually sound." Nor covered his mouth, obviously trying to stifle a few giggles.

"SHUT UP!" 

Nor headed for the door.

"Hope you enjoy your puffin dinner~" Nor dashed outside and closed the door behind him. Seeing as Ísland's knees where in no shape to be running, all he could do was sit there and be furious, while also being completely clueless about what to do.

Then the puffling started to peck at his hand.

~*~

Obviously, Ísland couldn't eat the puffin. One, Nor enchanted it to be immortal, and two, Nor would be unhappy. So for now, it stayed with him.

Ísland sighed. After nearly two years, he was back at his land. Nor and Dan had left to go back to their own territories, promising to come back soon.

The little puffling, whom he'd decided to call Mr. Puffin, was busy exploring the little cottage where Ísland resided, at the far edges of the town.

Ísland, seeing him wander farther and farther away, picked him up after a few minutes.

"Hey! Where're we going?" He yelled.

"To explore." Ísland said flatly. Anywhere besides being cooped up in one place.

When he got to the town, which was a relatively minor one, people seemed to be worked up about something. A new religion the King of Norway was trying to force on them. Ísland had heard of this "Christianity" before, but had dismissed the missionaries as being foolish for trying to spread their ridiculous faith.

Apparently, it had become much more prominent in Nor, Dan, and Svea's place than he'd realized, and once again Ísland wanted to slap himself for not keeping up with the rest of the world.

There were two missionaries in town, being mocked. 

"Oh stop your foolishness! You can't turn us back on our gods!" They weren't doing a very good job.

A few chieftains had been baptized as well, but Ísland took real noticed when an Alþing convened and decided to sentence two Christian to lesser outlawry for mocking Freyja. 

Only a while earlier, a missionary killed several people and returned to Norway to tell the king of his people's refusal to accept the new religion...

"He can't do that!" Ísland yelled out furiously, attracting the attention of more than a few humans. He blushed a bit, but really, the King of Norway had just threatened to kill all his people in Norway's land if they didn't convert.

"I've heard of the two who were outlawed, I think they're making a deal with King Ólafur." One of the humans remarked. Ísland was quiet for a moment, before seeing himself out.

~*~

There might be a war. Between his own people. The reality sunk in as Ísland watched from afar, carefully making sure no one could see him. 

The Christians had made a deal alright, that the King would spare the hostages if they converted his people. However, doing so required force. An army was now marching towards Þingvellir, towards the _Alþing_. Civil war was looming.

Ísland shook. His head was a mess, opinions flying everywhere and giving him the worst headache he's ever had. Blinking, he realized tears were threatening to spill. Silently, he headed for the Alþing.

At the Alþing, Ísland watched anxiously from the shadows. He let out a quiet sigh of relief as, after many hours of debating, Þorgeir Ljósvetningagoði was decided to proclaim the law, and both sides would agree to it.

While Þorgeir was meditation under his fur blanket, Ísland was pacing nervously. Finally, under the moonlight, he couldn't bear it anymore. Emil couldn't bear it anymore.

He sat down next to Þorgeir. He could feel the Lawspeaker's surprise and turmoil as strongly as he felt his own emotions. Þorgeir looked at him with a questioning, pleading gaze, as if hoping the gods he had so much faith in would do something, anything, to resolve this conflict.

"I wish I would do something...but I have to confess. I'm no god." Ísland whispered. "If I were one, this would never have happened."

Þorgeir retreated back into his blanket, disappointment rolling off him, which made Ísland feel even worse. The personification slumped.

"The decision is up to you, human. All I wish for...is the well-being of Ísland."

~*~

The announcement was made the next morning, the assembly being at the Law Rock. Ísland kept hidden.

"I have decided," Þorgeir started, "that we will all convert to Christianity. All of us, will be baptized." He raised his hand as murmurs of dissatisfaction rippled the crowd.

"But-exceptions are allowed. Horse meat will still be allowed to be eaten, and the tradition of child expose will also be allowed. Former rituals will only be punished for if witnesses come forth."

Ísland felt that neither side was satisfied now, but it was a calmer sort of dissatisfaction, one that was much less likely to lead to war. He could help but smile a bit, with great relief when both sides agree, and the meeting was dismissed with no civil war.

Pausing at his house to retrieve Mr. Puffin, Ísland set out to the house of Þorgeir Ljósvetningagoði.

"Thank you." He said, appearing behind the human. Þorgeir jumped a bit, and glanced guiltily at the idol in his hand. Ísland had seen that he was throwing idols into the waterfall.

"It's alright." Ísland said. "If the people are truly to become Christian, then I suppose they have to let go of the past gods. They won't be as willing as you, but that's because they haven't been in the same situation as you."

"I hope I did the right thing." Þorgeir said. The waterfall didn't drown out his voice like Ísland expected. Instead, it seemed to magnify it.

"I don't know what the right thing is." Ísland sighed. "But your decision lead my people away from civil war and back into stability, and for that I am grateful." 

"Your people?" Þorgeir asked. Ísland nodded. Externally, he put up a surprisingly calm facade for what looked like a ten-year old. Internally, he worried over whether this was the right thing. He would be the first human ever to know his secret.

But Ísland remembered how Nor told him how his king and leaders usually knew what he stood for, and how Ísland would have to tell some humans, eventually.

"I am not a god, but I am a representation of the Ísland culture, identity, people, and land. There are ones for other places too, but I'm the one for Ísland, which actually makes my true name Ísland." He paused, trying to figure out how to explain it to the human.

"I'm not to sure of how it works either. But I just want you to know this, as a thankyou for saving me from mathe pain that would happen if war broke out. According to some of the others, it doesn't feel to good." Ísland studied Þorgeir's reaction, trying to assess if he'd done the right thing.

He slowly nodded.

"I-it makes sense, I suppose." Þorgeir said finally. "I feel like-like I've just condemed a major part of your culture to fade, by converting everyone to Christianity."

"It's practices will die out." Ísland agreed. "But it won't be forgotten. I'm here as long as the Ísland identity is here. I will remeber, even if the humans forget." The thought of it, that he could preserve the memory of the old gods, _do something_ , filled him with a sense of determination.

"Then, please, take this. It's the last one." Þorgeir handed Ísland the small idol. Observing it closely, Ísland recognized Odin, the Allfather, smiling back at him.

"Thank you." Ísland repeated.

"It's the least I can do." Þorgeir said sadly.

"Goodbye, Þorgeir." Ísland said, know the human wouldn't tell, and kowing this would be the last time they talked. He concentrated on a target destination, and teleported there, in the way Nor had taught him. As the world blurred around him for a second, he could still hear Þorgeir's final farewell.

"Goodbye, Ísland. Goodbye."

~*~

Back at his house, someone else was waiting for him.

"Nor!" he yelled furiously. "How could you-"

Nor lowered his head.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't do anything. I-I tried. But I can't change the king's mind. At least the prisoners are free now."

Ísland could only bring himself to look at Nor's eyes for just a moment, which were so full of sorrow and guilt that he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Nor any longer. After all, the mess was caused by humans.

Ísland reached out and patted Nor’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, big brother. We’ll move on.”

Nor blinked back tears, and smiled.

“You’ve matured a lot.” He whispered. “In such a short time.”

“What do you mean?” Ísland didn’t look any older than the last time Nor saw him.

“I mean-you understand more. It’s just...sad. To see you grow like this. But I’m also happy for you as well.” Nor pulled him into a hug, and for once, Ísland didn’t complain.

~*~

Mr. Puffin sat comfortably on top of his head, occasionally being fed fish by a rather charmed Ísland, who was once again on a ship with Nor.

"So we're going on another adventure." Sigurðr hummed. After Leif Erikson returned from his visit to Norway, the human had started by proclaiming news of land even more west than Grœnland.

Naturally, the brothers had to tag along.

"Land sighted!"

The two brothers were the last to get off, and when they did all of the crew glanced at them expectantly. Sigurðr looked around.

"You have named this place Vinland, yes?" He asked Leif, who nodded in confirmation.

"Set up a base, if you must, but Emil and I will be doing something else. Expect us back in five days," He took Emil's hand and pulled them into a forest, leaving the humans to their own devices.

"Big brother? What are we doing?" Ísland asked nervously. Mr. Puffin burped, as if to agree.

"Do you notice, Ísland?" Nor said quietly, holding his hand a pressed it against a tree. Ísland's eyes widened.

"It belong's to someone!" He whispered. Nor nodded.

"This land's personification. I want to see if I can find them or their people."

Ísland wasn't sure how he felt about the idea. But he knew Nor wouldn't be deterred.

They walked around the land for the next three days, Nor fussing over every new plant or animal they came across, and Ísland playing with Mr. Puffin while running around.

"Hey! Hey!" Mr.Puffin squawked, flapping around a snowdrift. He had only just started molting his feathers, which gave him a characteristically silly look as Ísland tried and failed to catch up with him. Tripping and falling into the snow, Ísland huffed in embarrassment.

A hand reached out to him. Ísland took it without a second thought, brushing snow off his knees.

"Who's that?" Mr.Puffin waddled up to them. Ísland started as he took another look. She was a young woman, wearing fur coats and holding a spear in one hand. She appeared to study him closely.

Ísland grabbed Mr.Puffin and backed away warily. This, he could tell, was the Vinland personification. He glanced around nervously. Where was his big brother when he actually needed him?

The woman said something which he didn't understand. Ísland back away more and scanned the trees more desperately.

"I think she's trying to tell you something." Mr.Puffin quipped.

"I know, I know." Ísland muttered back. The woman reached out to him this time, attempting to grab his arm. Ísland wasn't going to fall for that trick again. Turning around, he scrambled up a tree and hung precariously to a branch while the woman watched with a confused expression below.

"Nor! Nor! Here!" Ísland called out as loud as he could. Mr. Puffin, partially crushed between Ísland and the tree branch, fluttered his wings in protest.

A shout was heard. Nor ran towards them, brushing aside branches and bushes

"Nor! This was a terrible idea!" Ísland wailed. "We don't speak their language! What are we suppose to do!"

"Just stay up there for now!" Nor called. "I'll get you." Ísland wondered how he was going to do that when his brother suddenly appeared in the tree right next to him. Ísland, the woman, and Mr. Puffin all gave verbal reactions of various pitches and volumes.

Nor simply grabbed Ísland and teleported them out, to an area he didn't recognize.

"That-that was scary!" Ísland trembled. Mr. Puffin nodded in agreement in his arms.

"I was just curious." Nor said simply. "Come on, let's get back to camp."

~*~

Ísland stayed hidden after his return to his land. If his status as an immortal was brought up or known, then there would be fights and questions, mostly revolving around Christianity.

Over time, his people forgot him. Generations passed, and they became more and more skeptical of the immortal white-haired boy who once roamed the land. Memories of his brothers were also fading, and at a much faster rate.

Ísland knew they now only revealed their identity to their kings, out of necessity.

But he didn’t have kings. He had chieftains and independent farming settlements whose power was growing less and less.

That was it, the strange feeling he’d had in his chest, which grew steadily worse.

It was a disruption of a power dynamic.

And now his people were fighting.

Ísland’s house had been repaired a lot over the years, sometimes by his own hand, sometimes with Norge or Danmark’s help. Now, as he was sitting down, clutching Mr. Puffin, Ísland wished they would come back to visit him. He hadn’t heard from either of them, or any nation for that matter, in a long time.

“Hey, Icey!” Mr. Puffin whispered. “Come on, let’s go out and ‘explore’.”

“Shut up.” Ísland muttered. Yet, his heart lifted a bit at the idea.

“Come on! I can’t stand being cooped up in here all day with your depressing attitude.”

Ísland smiled weakly at the familiarity of the situation. He supposed he should really be checking up on how his people were doing.

“Alright.”

~*~

As it turns out, his people were not doing so well. The number of fights and amount of chaos did nothing to help his mood, and neither did the fact that they were being recorded down into sagas.

"Hey, at least you're going out now." Mr. Puffin, who'd by now matured into a fully grown puffin, flew around him.

Ísland sighed. Perhaps what saddened him the most was that the old traditions had been entirely stamped out. Temples and idols knocked down and churches built in their place. Even practices in private were banned. The compromise was broken.

But there was no use dwelling over religion. It is what it is.

Ísland also realized just how much influence the Church and Norwegian king had over his people. There were bishops, and proper Church structure. The Church, in turn, was under the rule of the Norwegian archbishop. The final straw came when he quietly listened in on a Alþing.

Peace was desperately wanted, but no one could agree how. Finally, due to the pressure of one Snori Sturlung, the rule of the Norwegian king was accepted. The covenant, called the Ancient Covenant, was accepted.

Ísland should have felt dismay. The last of his independence was now being whittled away.

Instead, he only felt relief.

~*~

The king imposed a tax. Chieftains were replaced by royal officials, sheriffs, and a governor.

With them also came someone else.

"Little brother!" Norway had returned.

"Big brother. Big brother-I don't like this." Ísland whispered.

"I know." Norway sighed. "I don't either. But it's the King's decision, and I can't stop him."

"Big brother-where were you? You said you'd visit!" Ísland silently counted. After all, he hadn't seen Nor for over 100 years, ever since his last visit in 1127.

"I'm sorry." Nor whispered. "I was-I was too busy. Forgive me." He shifted a bit, but Ísland clung on.

"Please don't leave so soon." Ísland pressed himself into his big brother's embrace, refusing to let go.

"I'm sorry, little brother , but I must. The King is angry I spared time to come here already." Norway murmured.

"But-then-let me go with you!" 

Nor started, obviously not sure how to respond.

"Are you sure, little brother?"

"I-yes! Why not?" Ísland said, with an underlying tone of desperation. _Please say yes..._

His big brother nodded, slowly.

"Alright." He whispered. "You can come. Do you still remember Norwegian?"

"Yes." Ísland quivered. After Nor's last few visits, when he taught him the language, Ísland had practiced with it nearly every day, up until now.

"Hey, don't forget me too!" Mr. Puffin hopped up to them. "You're not leaving me behind, right?"

"Of course not." Nor smiled sadly.

"Yes...both of you can come."

~*~

Norway's land was very different from his own. They arrived at Bergen, the capital city. The architecture, colors, and atmosphere all felt a bit off, though Not assured him he would get used to it.

The king didn't spare him much thought, only said that Emil could stay as long as he didn't get in they way.

"Emil, there are some things you should know." Nor said as Emil looked over his new room. Mr. Puffin flew up to the windowsill, peering out.

"Christianity-we've changed our human names. Dan is the Kingdom of Denmark, I am the Kingdom of Norway, and do you remember Svea?" Emil nodded, remembering a tall young man with one of the most frightening expressions he'd ever seen.

"He is the Kingdom of Sweden. Our human names are Lukas, Matthias, and Berwald respectively, since the old Norse names fell out of favor." At Emil's confused and somewhat crestfallen expression, he added, "We just have to move on, Emil. Nations must be like that. We can't let the past drag us down."

Emil had never seen such a cold, apathetic look on his brother's face. What had changed in those 100 years?

"Does that mean I have to change my name?" Lukas shook his head.

"Your name doesn't need changing, since it was never an Old Norse name anyway." N-Lukas sighed, ruffling his hair. "One last thing. I'll be giving you proper education here, which is one of the reasons I agreed to let you come."

"Aren't I already educated?" Emil asked. "I can read and write." Lukas shook his head.

"You can read and write Icelandic and Norwegian. That's not enough, because it's only used in our territories. You will have to learn some other languages as well. And not just languages. Math, history, science...it's not fair for you to stay ignorant about the world, remaining on the island until someone unexpectedly attacks."

Emil didn't mind the learning part, but he really didn't like the haunted expression that now resided on Lukas. Even in the body and mental state of an 11-year-old, he knew it signal something that had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

~*~

"Moving?" Lukas repeated.

"Er-yes. The king has decided to move the capital over to Oslo, and requested that-ah-you...move as well!" The human's voice delved into a squeak at the end, which Emil found somewhat amusing. Though he couldn't really blame the human. Being stared down by Norway himself would be enough to reduce even bravest man into a quivering mess, let alone a low rank messenger who had no idea exactly who Lukas was, but had heard the rumors about him nonetheless.

"We're moving right now?" Emil asked, curious.

"Well, the King wants you to move as soon as possible..." the human floundered, searching for more words to say, but coming up with none.

"You're dismissed." Lukas said flatly.

"Emil." Lukas began after the human left. "Start packing up."

Emil complied, still giggling a bit whenever he thought of how terrified the humans were of Lukas. The interactions were so funny, he wished he had some way to record it.

Mr. Puffin flew up to his head.

"I know what you're thinking, kid. Don't."

~*~

"Big brother...I feel cold." Emil shivered, despite the obvious warmth from the stone fireplace.

"I know, Emil. So do I." Lukas sighed. Emil leaned again his brother, clutching Mr. Puffin. The last few winters had been especially harsh, and despite not being there he could feel his people slowly die of starvation.

Other than that, Lukas had upheld his promise of giving Emil more education. Danish, Swedish, English, French, German, and Latin he was now fluent in, and he understood basic Greek. Nations, said Lukas, learned new languages much faster than humans.

History, as much as Lukas knew, was also taught to Emil, and Lukas always found a steady stream of foreign books to add to his private library.

Emil also leafed through the Bible. He nearly fell asleep after the first 20 pages.

Besides the minor famine, things were relatively normal. Only a few decades had passed since they moved to Oslo.

"Big brother?" Emil whispered. But judging by the silence and soft breathing, Lukas had fallen asleep. And so had Mr. Puffin. Wriggling out from his arms, Emil covered them with the blankets and peeked out the door. Though it was nighttime, he didn't feel tired at all.

The castle wasn't silent at night. If he listened closely, there was the scurry of tiny feet(mice?) and occasional footsteps.

"Watch it, kid!" Emil started as he accidentally bumped into someone. The human, clutching a book, shook his head as he got back up. Emil grew nervous as he leaned down to examine him.

"What's an eleven year-old doing roaming the place at night anyway?" He grumbled.

"Um..." Emil backed away, not sure what to say.

"Oh don't worry, he's with me!" A cheerful voice sounded behind him. Emil whirled around to see spiky blond hair and bright blue eyes. Said person was also twirling a huge battle ax.

Emil didn't recognize him until he spoke again.

"Hey Icey! I'm sure Lukas has told you not to wander off, right?" He knelt down to eye level and gave him a crushing hug.

"Ma-Matthias!" Emil yelp, remembering just in time what his human name was. Lukas talked of Denmark occasionally, and sometimes met with him and his king in diplomatic meetings. But Emil had always been excluded from those.

"Oh-well. Sorry then." The human dashed off, no doubt wary of Matthias's ax. Or perhaps he'd remembered who "Lukas" was. Either way, Emil didn't care.

"Denmark?"

"Yup! That's me!" He looked much older now, at least 16 years old.

"I know. What are you doing here, and why in the middle of the night? I haven't seen you since...centuries." Emil suddenly realized just how much time has passed between now and the last time they'd seen each other.

Denmark's expression suddenly turned serious.

"I bring...dire news." He said finally. "Can you show me to Nor's room?"

Emil, sensing a serious situation, nodded.

Lukas was still asleep when they opened the door, curled up under a blanket.

"Nor!" Denmark ran over and shook him awake.

"Matthias? What is it?" Lukas shrugged off the blanket, pulling himself up into a sitting position. Emil joined him.

"It's this new...sickness." Matthias explained. His voice dropped. "It started in Italy, southern Italy. I've seen it with my own eyes, Lukas. Entire towns, gone. Our southern neighbors are all in a panic, it's marching further and further up. I've heard that the Italies are bedridden, with black spots and-"

"Wait-this sickness. It's coming here?" Lukas asked. Emil shifted, disturbed by Matthias's account.

"Looks like it. I think we have some time, the cities are preparing defenses. Quarantining the sick, regulating merchant ships, things like that. Messengers are coming tomorrow, but I went ahead of them."

Lukas stood up. "I need to see this for myself."

They both glanced at Emil.

"Can I go too?" Emil asked quietly.

"No, you're too young." Matthias began, only to be cut off by Lukas.

"Yes." Emil wasn't the only one surprised by this.

"But, why! He's a child, Lukas, -"

"-and a nation." 

"..."

"You win, as always." Matthias headed for the door.

"I don't like this, but he is under your rule. I must go back to Roskilde. See you soon." The door clicked.

"Emil, get properly dressed, and pack some food. We'll set out first thing in the morning."

"Mr. Puffin?" The bird was still sleeping.

"We'll leave him behind."

~*~

It wasn't like he'd never seen disease before. It claimed lives all the time. But nothing could prepare him for the sight.

After a quick teleportation spell(he'd nearly forgotten Lukas could do that) they arrived at a city with wooden buildings and dark, twisting streets. A foul smell hung in the air.

Emil looked around nervously.

"Big brother, do they normally pile dead bodies on the open streets?"

Lukas surveyed their surroundings, holding Emil close.

"So he wasn't exaggerating." He sighed. "I wonder how Arthur's doing."

"Big brother?" Emil whispered.

"Stay close, Emil. We can't get sick like this, but desperate times mean very desperate humans. And use English while we're here." He peaked out from behind the alley and gestured for Emil to follow.

"Where is here?"

"The English city of London. It's the center for trade and commerce, though it's been disrupted a bit, from the looks of it."

Disrupted was an understatement. In addition to dead bodies, cat and dog corpses also lay strewn around. People walked with unease and several houses were boarded up, with guards stalking the doors and windows.

"Stay away!" Someone shouted. He turned and saw someone stumbling down the street, coughing up blood and covered in black spots.

Emil felt sick.

"Will this happen to our cities?" He whispered.

"I-maybe." Lukas looked away for a brief moment, and when he turned his head back his face had hardened into one of impassiveness.

"It's not our problem right now, so don't think on it too much."

"Well, it may not be your problem, but it's certainly mine. You could at least express some sympathy for my poor, doomed soul." A young man, perhaps around 17, two or three years older than Lukas, limped up to them.

"Hello, Arthur." Lukas said.

"Hello, Lukas. As you can see-" He paused, coughing out some blood. "I'm in quite a bind right now. The Church says it's because I'm a sinner. Ha! As if I didn't know that already."

"We're all sinners, in this imperfect world." Lukas said dryly.

"Yes, of course. Who's this?" Arthur asked, gesturing to Emil.

Emil couldn't see any black spots or swelling, but Arthur's posture spoke of weakness and fatigue.

"I'm Emil. Lukas is my big brother." 

Arthur nodded. "So you're the personification of Iceland that Lukas has told me and Vas about." He turned to Lukas.

"Well, have you seen enough of the Pestilence?"

"The Pestilence? Is that what they're calling it?" Lukas swept his gaze once more over the sorry looking city.

"Of course. It doesn't care if you're old, young, rich, poor, it just kills and spreads and kills." Another bout of coughing blood. "I've lost a third of my population already, suspect it'll be at least half until the sickness goes away."

"What if it doesn't go away?" Emil whimpered. He pressed against Lukas. Arthur laughed.

"If it doesn't, then we're all dead men walking."

"It'll go away." Lukas snapped. "The Justinian one did, why not this one?" Arthur arched one of his(massively bushy) eyebrows.

"You're quite sure of this. Well, I don't know diseases nearly as well as you do. If you say so, then I suppose I'll take your word for it. Pardon me now, I have a meeting I have to be at."

Arthur limped past them and continued on. Lukas held Emil's hand, which was shaking a bit. Emil bit his lip, looking around London worriedly.

"I think we've seen enough." Lukas said quietly. "Let's go back."

~*~

The Pestilence did come, and much earlier than expected. Much to Emil's dismay, Norway was the first to be affected, with Denmark and Sweden quickly following.

While Lukas was exhibiting the same weakness and blood coughing as Arthur, Emil himself was not affected, and he could sense that his people had been spared from the epidemic.

"Big brother?" Emil whispered, hovering over Norway uncertainly.

"Emil, it'll be alright. It will pass soon."

"Are your sure?"

"It's always been like that before. Plagues like this have a sort of pattern to them. There's not much you can do except wait it out."

"Alright."

~*~

Norway was right, of course. It did go away in a few years, with short bursts here and there, but the worst was over. And Emil was very, very thankful it hadn't reached his people in time.

What seemed most remarkable about the Pestilence, as noted by Norway, was that Europe seemed to have benefited from it.

Iceland supposed he could see how. There was more food, more space, and more pay for the survivors.

But that wasn't what he was supposed to be thinking about today. Today, he was attending the coronation of Erik, the king who would unite the Kingdoms of Norway, Denmark, and Sweden, at the Kalmar cathedral.

After the coronation, he was called for a private meeting with Margaret.

"As you all know, my adopted son Erik is now king of all three kingdoms. The Hanseatic League problem will be dealt with. Now, I trust I have all your support in this?" The question was directed at Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, since Iceland was just a territory. But he also noticed someone else in the room, a light-haired man who was sitting next to Sweden. Iceland only remembered Sweden from the few times they interacted through the Viking age, but he'd grown just as much as Denmark.

"Of course." Norway said. He didn't add anything.

"Well, not like we have much choice, but yes, Sweden is on your side." Sweden's voice had gotten deeper and scarier, but Margaret didn't seem fazed.

"Well, your son being crowned king is kind of a giveaway, isn't it?" Denmark asked instead. Margaret seemed to interpret it as a yes.

"Very well. Erik will be introduced to you three later. Dismissed."

 _That's it?_ Why was he, or the other person, called here?

Said person caught his eye and smiled, but there was something unreadable in his expression.

Iceland got up with Norway and followed him out.

"Nor, why was I there?"

"Because I wanted you to be. Margaret was against it at first, but I felt you should be there, to see what she's like."

"I don't like her. I don't like this union with Denmark, or Sweden, or that random person."

"I know. This idea is doomed to fail. But that's they way things are."

 _The way things are._ Iceland was really starting to hate that phrase

~*~

They had to move again, into a shared house with Denmark, Sweden, and probably the guy at the meeting whose name Iceland didn't know. The house was located in Denmark, which Iceland, again, hadn't been to in a very long time.

"Um." Iceland looked up uncertainly, Sweden towering over him.

"Iceland." He grunted. "You've grown." Iceland looked twelve, which was around five years older than when he first(and last) met Sweden.

"Um, yes?"

"This is my wife, Finland." He pointed at the man who was at the meeting. Said person sighed.

"I'm not your wife. i'm not even a woman, Sve." Iceland remembered Norway saying that Finland was a region of Sweden, but with his own language and culture.

"Your people sure think you are." Denmark quipped, overheard the conversation. Finland heated up.

"That doesn't matter! These kinds of relationships aren't suppose to happen anyway."

"You know, to quote something Norway once said, 'Fuck the Church.'" Denmark shot back. "I bet that's what Sweden thinks whenever he refers to you as 'his wife'."

"You two!" Norway appeared, slamming open the door. "Denmark, Sweden, get your immature acts together. We are to see the king. Iceland, you'll stay here and unpack." He didn't bother to acknowledge Finland.

Once they were gone, Iceland began exploring the house.

"I'm told this place was cleared out especially for us." Finland remarked as they dragged all their stuff into the living room.

"Yeah. I suppose the royals got tired of us residing in their castles." Iceland muttered.

"By the way, my human name's Tino. What's yours?"

"Emil. Norway is Lukas." Iceland paused. "Do we get our own rooms?"

"Well, I'm sharing a room with Sweden. We get the biggest one. After that, it'll be decided by you three who get what."

Iceland nodded, running his hand over a small idol.

"Of course..."

~*~

Iceland staggered, collapsing into Norway's arms.

"What's happening." Denmark yelled, running around in a panic.

"The-the plague." Iceland coughed. Norway's expression flashed into one of pure horror before resuming it's normally calm look.

"Denmark, stop running around. Get Iceland to his room." Denmark, after a quick slap from Sweden, complied. As Iceland was carried to his room, he could hear Norway whispering under his breath.

"So the plague didn't spare little brother after all..."

~*~

Iceland sipped water from the glass, glad the plague was finally over. It didn't last too long, but more than a third of his people had been taken.

He looked out the window, into the countryside. After the brief outbreak, he was actually feeling very well. He supposed that's what having a good economy feels like.

"Hey Icey, wanna spar?" Denmark barged into his room. Iceland gave him a funny look.

"Spar?"

"Yeah-oh. Wait, you can't use a sword?"

"I'm physically 12. How do I use a sword?"

"Nor should have taught you?"

"Well, he didn't, because he's a sensible being. Unlike you."

Denmark grabbed his arm and dragged him out.

"You're learning how to use a sword!"

He was dragged to the backyard, where Denmark tossed him a wooden practice sword. The next few hours were fill with pain, annoyance, and loud yelling, which Iceland didn't like at all.

At the end of the day, he limped into the house and collapsed on one of chairs.

"Alright! We'll try again tomorrow." Denmark patted his shoulder, as if to be reassuring.

"No." Iceland hissed. "Never again."

"I agree. Denmark, what do you think you're doing to my little brother?" Norway emerged from the kitchen.

"Nor, you haven't taught him any for of self defense. What is he going to do in a battle?"

This gave Norway pause.

"Fine. I'll take over his self defense training, because the body of a 12 year old is not meant to carry longswords, or axes."

"Yes!" Iceland, seeing a chance to be free of this misery, jumped in. "I agree with _big brother_." He added emphasis, hoping to deter Denmark. 

"Oh fine! I was just trying to help!" He stormed out of the house, closing the door behind him. 

"...I think we upset him." Iceland said, dismayed. He hadn't meant to do that. After all, Denmark's temper was not something pleasant to deal with. 

"Denmark more immature than anyone else in the house. It's not your fault." Norway sat down on a chair beside him. "That being said, being so focused on academics, I have neglected your self defense training. So we will have a lesson tomorrow, but with much more practical solutions." 

"Like what?" Iceland asked. 

"Daggers, for both close range and throwing. They are very useful for someone your size. That's what we'll start with." Norway shifted a bit a pulled out a dagger from seemingly nowhere. "I got this from another nation. Her daggers are always made with very good balance and quality." 

"Her?" Iceland questioned. Woman weren't known for making or using knives, let alone daggers, for offensive purposes. Though he'd never met a female nation before, so... 

"Belarussia. I'd rather you not meet her, at least now. She's not...stable." 

"...okay." 

~*~ 

Denmark and Sweden were arguing. Again. 

"DON'T-" a loud crash followed. 

Iceland buried his head under pillow, locked in his room. The arguments had been getting worse and worse. 

"I can. Gustav is now king. I can walk out of this house and become independent, without your meddling." 

Iceland heard the door open. 

"Wait, Mr. Sweden! I have to come too!" 

_A few moments later, the door slammed shut._

_A beer bottle was broken._

"Denmark." 

A punch against the wall. 

"Denmark." 

Another punch. 

"DENMARK!" 

Silence. 

"Go to sleep. I'll clean up." 

Footsteps, and then the opening and closing of a door. 

It took an hour for Norway to finish. 

"Little brother?" He knock on the door. Emil walked over and let him in. 

"I'm scared." He whispered.

"It's alright. I will talk sense into Matthias. He has responsibilities as a nation." Lukas said. "Just don't get in the way, and you'll be fine." 

Emil didn't feel fine. At all. And neither did Lukas, from the looks of it. 

And Emil suspected Matthias was feeling the worst out of all three of them. 

~*~ 

They were still recovering from Sweden and Finland's departure when another change rocked Europe. 

"The Reformation." Norway said, "will grow to become an important part of European history. The protest, lead by Martin Luther, who-" 

"Can you not talk as if you're reading a book?" Denmark asked. His outbursts had stopped, but that doesn't mean he was in a good mood. 

"Shut up." Norway said in his now characteristically monotone voice. None of them were in a good mood, with their people's thoughts more present than ever over the Protestants and their anger at the church. 

"The Church can go fuck themselves. There, that's a summary of the Protestants. Can we move on now? I don't like thinking about this." 

"Stop." Iceland snapped. "I don't want to hear this anymore. All you two do these days is argue. Yes, Nor. You're a province. Yes, Dan, Sweden and Finland left. Yes, the Reformation is giving us all big headaches. That's the way it is. I'm tired of it."

He stomped to his room and locked the door, grabbing Mr. Puffin to hug.

"Hey Ice! Whatcha doing?" 

"Shut up. I just need someone to hug."

Mr. Puffin, wisely, stayed silent.

~*~

"I guess we're all protestant now. No more headaches. Happy?" Iceland pushed himself between Norway and Denmark.

"Alright." Denmark grumbled.

"Iceland, the Bible's been translated into Icelandic." Norway said instead.

"About time." Iceland paused. "Big brother."

Norway smiled, for what Iceland was sure was the first time since the Kalmar Union formed.

Denmark couldn't help but chuckle as well.

~*~

"This plague's back" Denmark hissed. "And here I thought we saw the last of it."

"Of course we haven't." Norway said drily.

Iceland simply clutched Norway's hand. His head like it was on fire, and his people were dying once again.

"I want to go home." He whispered.

"A trip back would be beneficial." Norway agreed.

"Didn't he just go back a few years ago?" Denmark asked. It was true. Though he lived primarily with Denmark and Norway, Iceland went to his land often, though it was always in times of peace. Nothing eventful usually happened. 

"Yes, but in this case, I think it'd help if he were closer to his people."

"Alright. I'll arrange for a ship." Denmark patted Iceland's head once more before heading off.

~*~

Iceland coughed, once again.

"Are you alright?" Denmark asked, looking at him worriedly.

"Of course he's not. His economy's horrible." Norway said.

"I'm fine, really." Iceland insisted. Suddenly, his throat seemed to clog. Iceland fell onto Denmark, who held him worriedly. Another bout of coughing persisted, and something gray fell out of his mouth.

"What's that?" Denmark yelped, alarm coating his voice. Norway picked it up, or at least he tried to. It behaved much like sand, slipping between his fingers.

"I think it's ash." He said. "One of Iceland's volcanoes is erupting."

Iceland blinked wearily.

"I can't see." He whispered.

"This one's bad. Denmark, get him to bed." Norway ordered.

Iceland fainted soon after.

~*~

His people were still recovering from the eruption when it was decided that the Alþingi would be closed.

"There's no use for it." Iceland whispered to himself, trying not to cry.

"I'm sorry." Denmark tried, reaching out a hand. Iceland slapped him away.

"I don't need your apology." Denmark's face fell.

"What happens to my people is not your fault. Personifications don't have a say, and I accepted that a long time ago. The only ones who should be apologizing are your king and government, and that's not happening. I'm not mad."

Denmark promptly pulled him into a hug. Again.

"Hey-that doesn't mean-are you crying?"

"I-I though you were angry at me, for so long. Because of Nor becoming just a province, and the economic crisis, and now the Alþingi closing, and.." Denmark smiled.

"You're really not mad at me?"

"No." Iceland sighed. "I'm not that much of a child."

"No, you're not." Denmark said fondly. "You really have grown."

~*~

Norway was pacing. A lot.

"Nor, can you stop that?" Iceland fidgeted. They'd all been on edge since Napoleon had started his wars, but Norway seemed to take the situation the worst out of any of them.

"No, I can't." Was the curt reply. Before Iceland could ask again, Denmark burst through the door.

"This is bad, really bad!" He yelled. "Nor! What are we gonna do?" Norway remained expressionless, but Iceland could see fear in his eyes.

"Let me guess, the British have invaded? Captured the navy?"

"Yes! Wait, how did you know?"

"Never mind that, what is your king doing?"

"He's decided we're joining France."

"..." Iceland didn't like the silence from Norway. It always told of misfortune.

"Nor?" Denmark asked, now concerned.

"Alright. I suppose you'll have to go then. Am I to come with you?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go."

Once they left, Iceland returned to his room and continued reading his book.

"Hey Icey! Where'd snarky guy go?" Mr. Puffin flew through the window and landed on his knee. Iceland brushed him off.

"To fight a war. Again."

"You people fight too much." He grumbled. "It makes you all sad, and you're no fun when you're sad."

"You don't say." Iceland muttered, turning another page.

~*~

Of course, it didn't turn out very well.

"Napoleon's lost. And we've lost." Norway said flatly a few years later. He had just come back from Kiel.

"I know!" Denmark snapped. "And Sweden's won. "

"They're redrawing the map." Norway started.

"Redrawing the map? Of Europe?" Iceland perked. "To what? Are we losing territory?"

Norway walked over and wrapped his arms around him.

"It'll be alright." He whispered. "You're staying here, with Denmark. You have nothing to worry about."

"Norway?" Denmark looked worriedly. "So something wrong? I mean, I know we lost, but it's not the first time."

Norway swallow, looking down.

"They've drawn up the treaty regarding us. I was there when they signed it." He explained. "They want to trade for Swedish Pomerania."

"Trade? For what?"

Iceland, from the tears Norway was blinking out of his eyes, even as his face stayed straight, suddenly realized.

"No, Nor! Don't!" He yelled, not wanting to hear. Norway replied at the same time, turning away so he couldn't meet Iceland's eyes.

"Me. Sweden wants me."

Denmark froze. Iceland was crying now, begging him not to go, and Norway...

Norway retained the same emotionless face he had worn for the past four hundred years, even as he explained further. His tears had stopped, but Iceland's only grew.

"It's compensation for Finland. Russia seized him in the mess, so Sweden wants me to replace him. In return, you get Swedish Pomerania."

"No." Denmark's eyes narrowed. "I won't let them."

"Don't fool yourself. We lost the war, we suffer the consequences. You can't stop the humans."

"But-"

"Stop deluding yourself. I'm going with Sweden, and that's that." Norway paused. "My overseas territories will stay with you, however. No European is on Greenland anyway, but do send a ship to inform Faroe. And of course, take care of my little brother." He fixed Denmark a glare.

"I'm counting on you to make rational, reasonable decisions this time. No drunk rampages or oversized weapons. I was ordered to set out for Stockholm immediately after I've informed you. I'll be meeting with Sweden on the way, so you won't have to see him. This is goodbye then."

Iceland had never seen such an enraged look on Denmark's face.

"But big brother!" He cried, reverting back into a moment of childishness.

Norway paused on his way out.

"It's the way it is, little brother. We'll see each other again, I promise."

~*~

"Denmark." Iceland began nervously. Only a few years have passed since Norway left. _Is this really a good idea?_

Nevertheless, he pressed on.

"I'd like to return to my land."

Denmark blinked.

"Return?"

"I mean, permanently. To live there again."

Denmark returned his question with a blank stare.

"Permanently?"

Iceland nodded, with growing unease. Ever since Norway's people rebelled, with the established personal union being the result, Denmark had been growing increasingly distant. But he's refused to let Iceland leave, not since Norway had left. The part where Sweden refused to hand over Pomerania didn't help either.

But Iceland had to do this. He felt the growing nationalism in his people, and longed more and more to return to the familiar yet distant lands.

He'd been living here for far too long.

"Well, I'd visit, of course. But I should really be living on my land, and Faroe's not living here, so well..." Iceland trailed off as Denmark held up a hand.

"It's alright, I understand. There's nothing for you here, now that Nor's gone. I've been selfish, keeping you here. It wouldn't be right to keep you from your people." He waved his hand, looking away.

"You can go."

Iceland should have been happy, but Denmark's depressing mood fueled his concern more. Norway's departure had affected him very badly.

However, that didn't mean he wasn't glad to be back home.

~*~

"I heard the King has reestablished the Alþing." One of the humans beside him noted.

Iceland was aware, as he'd just visited Denmark a few days ago. That didn't mean the happiness had worn off.

"About time. They should never have disbanded it in the first place." Another drawled. They were at a pub, which Iceland shouldn't be at. But no one noticed the 14 year old hiding in the shadows, so it was fine. Norway taught him the art of hiding very well.

 _"The best way to survive a fight is to avoid it entirely."_ He'd say.

Iceland felt a pang at the thought of Norway. He hadn't seen him since he left, and neither had Denmark. Was he doing alright? Did Sweden treat him well?

He had no way of knowing. It wasn't like he could search the entirety of two countries until he found where they lived, and then demand to see Norway.

 _I'll see him again._ Iceland reminded himself. _He promised._

~*~

"Are you happy?" Denmark asked.

"Happy?" They were at Iceland's house, which he'd rebuilt and settled in. Denmark had come over to visit, and bring an announcement.

"About the new constitution."

"Oh. It's nice." They both knew the reality of the situation now. Even with the mass emigration to America, nationalism was at an all time high. With the king agreeing to the constitution, it was another step towards home rule.

Another step towards independence.

Denmark gave him a strained smile.

"Well, I'm glad."

Iceland too a deep breath.

"Look, Denmark. You don't need to worry about me just abandoning you. I still visit a lot, and even if under the slim chance I get independence ever, It's not like I'm going to disappear."

"I know." Denmark sighed. "But I still worry. I get dreams, you know? Of Sweden and...Norway."

"Well, you don't need to worry about me." Iceland replied, trying to sound reassuring. "I'll still be there."

"Thanks, Ice. I appreciate it. A lot."

~*~

"Iceland, we've abolished the government. You really have home rule now." Denmark sat down next to him, watching the celebration.

"Home rule." He whispered, like it was almost a dream.

"Let's celebrate? Private party?" Denmark asked, hesitantly.

Iceland smiled. "Of course."

~*~

"You've grown a lot." A familiar voice said from behind him.

"Nor!" Dropping Mr. Puffin for real this time, he ran over and into his brother's arms.

"Hello, little brother. Have you heard?" Norway asked. A rare smile was on his face.

"No! Did Sweden allow you to come?"

"Sweden can't 'allow' me anything now. I'm fully independent."

Iceland beamed, while simultaneously cursing the fact that news took so long to get here.

"Does Denmark know?" He asked.

"The news should have got to him by now, but I decided to visit you first. I should go there, actually. Come along?"

"Of course."

A quick teleportation spell was all it took until they arrived at Denmark's house.

Denmark's face lit up, in what was the happiest Iceland's seem him centuries.

"Nor!" He smiled, looking up from his beer bottle.

"Hello. I see you haven't ceased your drinking habits." Norway grabbed a chair-the same one he used to sit in all those years ago, and sat down with Denmark. Iceland once again joined them.

"Well, what else was I suppose to do when you and Ice...left." Denmark's face turned into one of sad reminiscence for a moment, before resuming its cheerful smile.

"It doesn't matter anyway! You're here again!" He hugged Norway tightly, and for once he didn't object.

"Hm. Well, this house is a mess. I may have my own home now, but I expect it to be cleaned up by the next time I visit."

"Of course, of course." Denmark hummed. Iceland swore he was more drunk on the happiness than he ever could be on beer.

"Let's have a party!" He cheered. "To celebrate!"

"We just had one." Iceland pointed out.

"Yeah, but that one didn't have Nor in it" Denmark hugged Norway even closer.

"Fair point." Iceland chuckled.

"That's great, but can you let go of me now?" Norway asked. Iceland noticed that his voice had gone back to its monotone flatness, and the spark that his eyes once held was gone.

"Nor, are you alright?" Denmark had noticed as well.

"I'm fine." Norway replied. Again, his expressionlessness gave away nothing. "Though, Sweden certainly isn't." He added, almost as an afterthought.

"Well, he deserves it." Denmark said. "We're more concerned about you."

"Well, there's nothing to worry about." Norway said simply. Iceland could tell he wouldn't tell anything.

"Let's just start on that party, shall we?" The island nation suggested.

~*~

"So Europe's tearing itself apart again. What a shame." Norway commented.

"How did something like this happen anyway?" Iceland yawned. "One moment everything's fine, and then someone dies and the next thing you know, everyone's declared war on each other."

"The Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated by some Serbs. Then Austria got mad at Serbia and wanted to declare war, Russia was afraid they would annex Serbia, so they joined in. Each side had alliances, so they all declared war on each other, and now Europe is a bloody mess of bodies, trenches, and stupid humans who think war is fun." Norway narrated quietly. He turned away.

"It's not fun. War is never fun."

Iceland agreed. At least they weren't part of it.

~*~

"So, woman can now vote here." Denmark leaned back, sipping his beer.

"Following in my footsteps." Norway noted.

"Sweden hasn't joined us yet, though." Iceland said.

"Well, it is a relatively new concept. Though I never saw any reason why woman shouldn't vote." Norway twirled his hair absentmindedly.

"Yeah, remember Hungary? Her manliness makes her husband look like a housewife." Denmark gulped down the remainder of his beer.

"I still haven't met any female nations." Iceland realized. "You mentioned a Bel-something once."

"Belarus." Norway confirmed. "Beside her, there's also Hungary, Liechtenstein, Belgium, Ukraine, and Monaco. One of the African colonies, Seychelles, as well as some Asian nations. Taiwan and Vietnam are the one I can think of."

"I've never heard of Seychelles." Denmark asked. "Who's she?"

"One of France's. I talked with her once, a while ago. I met Taiwan and Vietnam while in Asia as well, back when I was with Sweden."

"You went to Asia?" Iceland asked. He'd heard of the land, but never been there. There simply was no need.

"Yes. Partly out of curiosity, partly to get away from Sweden. It's not like I was needed anyway."

Iceland resolved to asked him about it later.

~*~

"Did you hear about the new World Meetings they're holding?" Denmark asked. Iceland stopped his hand, which prompted Mr. Puffin to snatch the fish out of his hand.

"World meetings?" The war had just ended, with the League of Nations forming, but Iceland hadn't heard about any World Meetings.

"A gathering of various nations in one place, to talk about problems and such. It's part of the League of Nations plan. Most of Europe and some overseas nations are attending. They did specify fully independent nations only though."

"Does that include me?" Only a few months ago his land and people had been granted full sovereignty in a personal union, but he wasn't sure that qualified him."

"No, I asked. Since I represent you in foreign affairs, you're excluded. But don't look so down! I'll bring back souvenirs, and I'm sure Norway will to!"

"I'm not sure I want to go anyway." Iceland remarked. Despite his questions, he was perfectly content hearing about other nations from Denmark and Norway.

"Oh well, all the better! The first meeting is in some city in Switzerland, in a month or so. I forgot exactly where."

"Have fun." Iceland yawned. "I'm going to bed now."

~*~

"There's another war. You've got to be kidding me." Iceland whispered, looking over the newspaper. Norway, Denmark, and Sweden would most likely stay neutral like last time, but Iceland resisted the urge to face-palm. After all, barely twenty years had passed since the Great War.

From the looks of it, Poland wasn't doing so well. Iceland didn't know the nation, but he couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Norway's history lessons had showed that he's had a less than pleasant history.

Iceland could only hope this war would pass faster than the last one.

~*~

The war did not pass quickly, like he hoped. Instead...

"Iceland." Said nation jumped. Norway had teleported unexpectedly to his house yet again.

"Nor!" The nation had a disheveled appearance, and looked somewhat tired.

"The Germans have invaded Denmark and my lands." He said gravely. Iceland stiffened. "Denmark's already surrendered, but my people will hold on for a while yet."

"But, what are you doing?" Iceland asked frantically.

"Things. I will not succumb to Germany's hands. I must go now, but I'll update you soon." With that, Norway was gone.

Iceland sank into a chair.

"Invaded." He murmured. "Damn it."

~*~

His people were gathered at the port, having already heard the news.

"Are those the ships?"

"They're British, right?"

"What are they doing?"

Iceland pushed his way through among a sea of people, spotting the ginormously thick eyebrows.

"What are you doing?" He hissed.

"Don't be like that. We're here to protect you against the Germans." England replied.

"So you're invading."

"Well, not invading, per se..."

"You better not try anything on my people." Iceland growled.

"Of course not." England said hastily. "Of course not."

The British troops were met with no resistance as they marched for Reykjavik. His people weren't idiots, after all.

A few days later, while Iceland was observing some soldiers with England, another nation showed up.

"Lukas!" England yelped when Norway suddenly appeared. "Don't do that!"

"Hello Arthur. Some operation you have here. Operation Fork, was it? I heard the government issued an official protest. Something about their sovereignty being 'flagrantly violated' and their 'independence infringed?'"

"We're doing what's necessary." England insisted.

"Nor!" Iceland started. "What have you been doing?"

"Things." Was the simple reply. Norway turned to England again.

"If any harm comes to my little brother, friend or not, you will be sorry."

"Alright, alright..."

Iceland opted not to bother with the conversation, and instead return home.

A few hours later, Norway joined him.

"Nor, what's that in your hair?"

Norway took out a cross-shaped pin and laid it on the table.

"It's hollow inside, to store things." He popped open a latch, and inside the pin were some bent-looking needles and a tiny blade.

"What were you doing?"

Norway remained impassive.

"I'll tell you later. Denmark is doing quite well. Hitler's pet canary, Churchill called him." His tone held a level of bitterness. "Goodbye now." Once again, he disappeared. Iceland sighed. He was getting tired of this.

~*~

He was walking near the harbor when he came across a strangely transparent man holding a polar bear.

"Oh Kuma, I hope they forgive me for this..."

"Who are you?" Iceland and the bear asked simultaneously. The man pushed up his glasses.

"I'm Mathew Williams, part of the Canadian troops replacing the British ones. I hope that's okay with you..."

"I'm Iceland." Iceland said. "You wouldn't happen to be Canada, would you?"

"Oh! Yes, I'm sorry, I should have recognized you..." Canada smiled nervously.

"Where'd the talking bear come from?" Iceland asked, curious.

"England gave him the ability to talk when I first found him. Mostly he just eats and asks who I am."

"I have a puffin who can talk." Iceland noted. "I left him at home though...what's this about Canadian troops?"

"Well, England's men are needed elsewhere, so my people are filling in...I hope you're alright with that."

"Of course." Iceland sighed. "Of course."

~*~

"What kind of place is this? Who has grass on their roofs and beverages called the Black Death?" The boy, who looked around Iceland's age, muttered under his breath.

"Don't insult my culture." Iceland snapped, stalking up to him.

"Oh. You're Iceland" The boy looked up. He had black hair and a strange accent that sounded half British, and something that Iceland couldn't place.

"I'm Hong Kong." He continued. Iceland remembered Norway briefly going over England's colonies.

"You're one of England's territories. From Asia."

"Yeah." He sounded mildly surprised. "None of my people are involved in this, but England sent me here to get me out of his hair for a while."

Iceland now realized his eyebrows were also unnaturally bushy, though nowhere near the level of England's.

"Oh, and America's here to. Only for a while though, but he's overseeing his men while they replaced Canada's."

"I suppose I should go talk with him." Iceland muttered. 

"Yeah, you should." Hong Kong agreed.

~*~

"Hey America, this is Iceland." Hong Kong said as they approached a blond nation who look almost identical to Canada.

"Hello! We're just occupying you for a bit, hope you don't mind!" He held out his hand. Iceland didn't take it.

"I mind very much." He said, annoyance laced in his tone.

"Oh, that's too bad." America said. "But better us than the Germans, right?"

" _Right_." Iceland said, not sounding at all convinced. He doubted the Germans had any attack plans before the allies invaded.

"Hey, don't look so down." Hong Kong whispered to him. "I'll be staying here for at least a few years, so mind showing me around?"

"Why not?" Iceland replied. It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

~*~

"Wait, you weren't independent before?" Hong Kong asked, confused.

"I was? But Denmark handled my foreign affairs and we shared a king. This sort of makes me a fully independent nation."

"You've been handling foreign affairs on your own since Denmark was invaded." Hong Kong said.

"This makes it more official, okay?"

"So are you going to introduce yourself?"

"Introduce myself? To who?"

"Your president?"

Iceland considered this. He knew nations often talked with their bosses. Royal families were aware of their existence from childhood, but nations with elected rulers had to introduced themselves to their bosses at one point.

"I guess."

~*~

Finding Sveinn Björnsson alone wasn't terribly hard. Convincing him an anthropomorphic personification of Iceland existed, and looked like a 15 year old boy with white hair and violet eyes, was somewhat harder.

"Look, just stop getting in my way. I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, but I don't have the time to-"

"So this is the person who's been running your place for the past four years." For the first time ever, Iceland felt relief when Norway showed up without warning via his teleportation.

"Ah!" Sveinn jumped, as did Hong Kong, who had decided to tag along.

"What is happening, little brother?" Norway asked, disregarding the spluttering human.

"Well, Hong Kong here-"

"That's me-"

"Thought I should introduce myself to the new president, with the independence and all that."

"I see." Norway said. "How's it working out?"

"What is this madness!" Sveinn frowned at Norway. "You. Who are you? Where did you come from?"

Eyeing Iceland, Norway replied with his usual expressionless face and monotone voice.

"I am the Kingdom of Norway, mortal, and I hear you're being unreasonable to my little brother, Iceland. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Sveinn gaped at the three nations, speechless.

"Nor, what do you usually do the convince a human?" Iceland whispered after a few moments of silence.

"Royalty usually know from the start, but with presidents I hear there's usually other important figures, or a talk with the previous leader."

"Well, I don't have either of those on my side." Iceland grumbled.

"You could always demonstrate you healing abilities. Or maybe your magic brother can convince him." Hong Kong quipped.

After several demonstrations, they'd succeeded in convince Sveinn _something_ was different about them. Iceland supposed having his presence being accepted was merely a matter of time.

After they left(Iceland promising to find him tomorrow), Norway stopped Iceland just as he was gong back inside his house.

"Call me big brother again."

"What?" Iceland turned. Hong Kong, who'd already gone inside, peaked his head back out.

"What's going on?"

"None of your business. Go back inside." Norway closed the door.

"Call me big brother."

"Why?" Iceland tilted his head.

"You haven't called me that since I returned from Sweden's place. I want to hear you call me that again."

"Nor, this isn't funny. I'm not a child any more." Iceland said, exasperated. What was with him today?

"Come one. Just this once."

"No!" Iceland went inside his house, closing the door.

"What's happening?" Hong Kong asked.

"Nothing." Iceland muttered.

~*~

"So glad this mess is finally over." Iceland muttered, watching the American ship sail away. Some soldiers had stayed behind, but the majority had left.

"Hong Kong!" England called. "You're coming back." Hong Kong sighed.

"Welp, guess the fun times can't last forever. This is goodbye then."

Iceland nodded.

"Iceland, I have to inform you of something also. You're now obligated to attend world meetings, so take this." England handed him an envelope. On it was simply written: _Republic of Iceland_.

Iceland accepted the envelope.

"Norway has asked me to tell you that he and Denmark will be there as well."

Iceland nodded.

Once England and Hong Kong had left, he opened the envelope.

 _To: Republic of Iceland_

_Subject: World Meeting  
_

__Republic of Iceland, you are obligated to attend the World Meeting being held at Bern, Switzerland, on the 19th of December, 1945, at 3 pm(Central European Time). Please report to the library of the Federal Palace of Switzerland. We are not responsible for housing. Thank you for your time._ _

__

__

Iceland, after memorizing the letter, threw it away at a nearby trash can. This was going to be fun.

~*~

"Who are you?" A blond man wearing a white beret pointed a rifle at his face. Iceland held up his arms hastily.

"Emil."

"Emil? Please elaborate." The gun didn't move. Iceland gulped nervously. Did this guy know about the nations?

"Relax, Basch. That's my little brother you're pointing a gun at." Iceland wondered how Norway always knew to show up when he was in trouble.

"Sorry." Basch pulled up the rifle and slung it over his shoulder, walking away.

"Who's that?" Iceland asked.

"Switzerland. He won't try anything now that I've told him off, but be careful around him. He's the type to shoot first and ask questions later."

Iceland nodded mutely.

"Come. The library is this way."

A space had been cleared out, with a long rectangular table and chairs ringing it.

"They call it a World Meeting, but it's mostly European countries, with America, Canada, China, and Japan joining." Norway explained. "There's a seating arrangement. You sit next to me and Germany"

"Germany's here?" So soon after the war?

"He, as a nation, is obligated to attend. Even if his land is currently overrun by allied troops."

They reached their seats. Germany turned out to be a tall young man with slicked back hair, staring at his papers on the table. Iceland slid into the chair next to him.

One by one, the other countries filled in. Germany didn't speak a word, but only continued to stare at his papers as if nothing else mattered. Iceland was grateful.

"Welcome to the World Meeting, the first since the war started." Switzerland was the first to speak, giving the introduction. Several nations gave Germany dark looks, but Iceland wasn't sure the former embodiment of the Nazi regime even heard Switzerland.

"Since the last meeting, three former nations are no longer with us. Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia are back at Russia's house." Several whispers broke out at this, and many directed a glare at a tall man wearing a pink scarf. He was smiling. "We have one new nation that will be attending from now on." Switzerland continued. "Iceland has completely broken away from Denmark during the war, and how conducts his own foreign affairs, granting him the obligation to be at World Meetings."

A few claps, but most looked disinterested. Iceland couldn't blame them. After all, he'd never even seen most of them until now.

"Congratulations." Germany muttered beside him. Iceland turned, but Germany had still not lifted his gaze.

One by one, problems were presented, and nations who wanted to speak took turns dong so.

"Nevermind that, I wan to know what will happen to Germany! And Prussia!" One of the nations shouted after a while. He(she?) had wavy blond hair, and was dressed in an eye-scorching amount of pink.

"Yeah! I agree with Poland!"

"I'm surprised that wasn't the first topic."

Many voiced joined in, including Denmark's. Norway remained silent, and Iceland decided to follow his example. Germany looked even more miserable than before.

Switzerland fired his rifle.

"BE QUIET!" He shouted.

"Germany's land is being occupied by America, England, and France's troops. East Germany, or Prussia, is not here today, but he will go with Russia. The Kingdom of Prussia is formally dissolved. Is that clear?"

Mutterings of "yes" resounded.

The meeting went on with a few more chaotic outbursts, until it was declared over and people started filing out.

Iceland was one of the last to leave. As he reached the door, he paused and looked back. Norway and Germany were the only ones left. Norway was standing over Germany, who was slumped on the table. They appeared to be talking about something, though their voices were so quiet he couldn't hear.

Iceland briefly wondered whether to interrupt, but then shrugged. If it was important, then Norway would tell him.

~*~

"NATO?"

"North Atlantic Treaty Organization." Norway explained. "An agreement of mutual defense for each member for each other, in the case of attack by an external party."

"I suppose this is because of Soviet Union?" 

"Most likely. Probably with the Korean War thrown in as well. We're part of it, but doesn't affect us." 

"Then we have nothing to worry about. That's America's problem." 

~*~ 

"England." Iceland said, leaning over the rails. England did the same from his ship. 

"Hello Iceland."

"You're fishing in my waters. Again." 

"We agreed to a 12 nautical mile radius. Not fifty." 

"You'll regret this, England." 

"We'll see." 

~*~ 

"Someone died." 

"What." Iceland narrowed his eyes at his boss. 

"Halldór Hallfreðsson. Apparently, he was making repairs when he died of electrocution. The ship crashed with another British one, and seawater filled his compartment." 

Iceland swore. England was going to pay. 

They won the second Cod War, but Iceland could see that another one was coming. There was no way the British would stay away. 

~*~

Ramming and shots continued, and Iceland was growing increasingly frustrated, especially with how arrogant England was acting the whole time.

The dispute between the nations, even as the humans fought, escalated at a World Meeting. 

"I'm irresponsible? You killed one of my people, repeatedly trespass on my territory, send planes to spy on my ships, and you call me irresponsible?" Iceland yelled at England. 

"You keep bloody extending your fishing zone! 200 nautical miles is ridiculous!" England glared. "Iceland, you'll never win this. Tell your boss to give up." The rest of the nations watch with anticipation. 

"Really? I won't win? Not even if I shut down the base at Keflavik?"

Silence. The world, or rather the portion within the room, seemed to tense up. Most were still processing what the implications of that action could be, but a few nations realized instantly.

Finally, America spoke.

"You can't do that." 

"Yes I can. You know what else I can do? End relationships with NATO, and possibly have a chat with Soviet Union-"

"Wait! Stop!" America yelled. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement. I'll tell my boss. England, you'll cooperate, right?"

England looked furious, and Iceland couldn't help sending him a smirk. 

"Yeah, there's no need to take such drastic measures..." Another nation said. One by one, most voiced their agreement. 

"Our bosses can sort this out. We are willing to take any measures to win this, England." Iceland smiled, now understanding why Denmark was always raving about victory. 

It was a wonderful feeling indeed. 

~*~ 

"Hello. You are...Iceland?" Vigdís Finnbogadottir sat across the table from him. 

Iceland nodded. "Norway told me you are the world's first elected female president. Congratulations." 

"Thank you. Can you fill me in on this national personification business?" 

Iceland began. By now, he was experienced in how to talk with his bosses. 

"Wait." Vigdís stopped him when he got to the World Meetings. "What about the other nations? Will they ever come here?" 

"The Nordics sometimes visit." Iceland replied. "Mostly Norway and Denmark, sometimes Sweden and Finland as well. Though mostly I go to their places. Canada also comes occasionally." 

"Are you on good terms with them?" 

Iceland gave her a strange look. 

"Yes?"

She nodded, satisfied. 

"Continue."

~*~ 

"So, your troops are finally going away." Iceland said, watching his flag rise while the American one was taken down. 

"Yup." 

"Hm." 

There really wasn't much that needed said after that. 

~*~ 

Iceland had a fever.

A very bad one, and the cause was also very bad. 

"I don't like theses numbers." Norway said, looking over the paper. Iceland coughed. 

"Of course not." He said weakly.

"Denmark, get him more water." Norway ordered, sorting through more papers. Denmark complied. 

"Your government have already secured loans from the rest of the Nordics. It'll be fine." Norway set down the papers and put a hand on Iceland's head. 

Denmark returned with the water. After drinking half the glass, Iceland got up.

"I'm fine, really." He coughed. Actually, he hadn't felt this bad since the Bubonic Plague.

"Nonsense." Norway checked his phone. "I'm needed elsewhere. Denmark, stay behind."

Denmark nodded, helping Iceland back down.

"Doncha worry! I'm sure things will work out fine!" He gave Iceland what was supposed to be a reassuring smiled, though Iceland didn't feel that way.

As usual, wait it out.

~*~

Iceland was coughing ash. Again. In addition to the banking crisis, he now had another thing to worry about. Granted, it really wasn't that damaging, but everyone was mad because of how air travel was shut down.

Well, nearly everyone.

"Your volcanoes-they're merciless." Denmark handed him another glass of water. That was all he seemed to be doing these days.

"I know." Iceland paused in drinking his water. "I know. Europe needs to suck it up."

~*~ 

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait too long to recover. In fact, the rate at which his economy recovered was much faster than expected.

"Of course I recovered." Iceland said after it was brought up at a world meeting

"But so fast. What did you do?" One of the countries asked.

"Jailed the bankers, bailed the people, secured loans, stuff like that." Iceland looked around at the shocked faces.

"We should send a message to the other governments." Denmark suggested. "#BeLikeIceland."

"Yes! Great idea!"

"That's a horrible idea! My boss will kill me!"

And thus the world meeting dissolved into chaos once again.

~*~

"I'm having an evacuation done." Iceland said.

"Oh? For what?" Norway looked at him expectantly.

"To see if I have any indigenous people. They're mail me the results as soon as they can."

Norway fiddled with his cross pin. Though the war was over, he still wore it.

"So you want to know if we're really brothers."

"Of course I do." Iceland looked at him defiantly. "If I do have native people, then you'll stop requesting that I call you big brother."

"And if you don't, then you'll call me big brother until I'm satisfied." Norway countered back.

Iceland, hotheaded as he was, replied.

"Deal."

Of course, he would live to regret that later.

~*~

"..."

"WE ARE NUMBER OOONNNNNEEE!!!!!!!"

"Denmark, stop."

"Icey, it's all over the internet! This song is just so memeworthy, I can't help it." Denmark giggled like a two year old girl.

"If you call me big brother, I'll stop him." Norway offered. Iceland shook his head.

"No thanks." He wasn't losing that battle just yet.

"You'll give in eventually." Norway hummed.

"We'll see."

~*~

The lights were beautiful.

Iceland remembered the first time he'd seen them, with Norway, more than a thousand years ago.

_"Big Brother, what's that? It looks pretty."_

_"The Northern Lights, little brother. An amazing sight. I never get tired of watching it."_

_"Why are they here? How is it happening?"_

_"That, is one of the many mysteries of which answers I long to know. Perhaps one day, we'll find out."_

_"Okay."_

Norway walked over, touching Iceland's shoulder as he sat down on the rocks.

"Such a long way we've come, don't you think?"

"Yes. And hopefully, such a long way we'll go." Iceland leaned against his brother, gazing into the sky.

"Hm." Norway blinked, as if remembering something. "I found the answer to your question."

"My question?"

"How it's happening. They occur when many highly charged electrons from solar winds enter Earth's upper atmosphere. There, they interact with oxygen and nitrogen atoms, and the color depends on which atom is struck, and at what altitude."

"Oh. That's nice to know." Iceland paused. "Humanity has come a long way too."

"Yes, and they've got a long way ahead of them."

_And we'll be there, maybe not all the way, but doing the best we can nonetheless._

**Author's Note:**

> Names:
> 
> Ísland is Iceland in Icelandic. I opted to call him that in Viking times, because the phrase Iceland just doesn't make sense from Iceland's perspective at the time.
> 
> Nor is obviously Norway, Svea is Sweden, and Dan is Denmark. Apparently, during Viking times Denmark was referred to as Danemark, Norway as Norrvegr, or Noregr, and Sweden was either Svealand or Svitjod. I chose to go with Svea as a name for him in Viking times.
> 
> Only Sweden and Finland have canon human names among the Nordics, but the most common name for Iceland is Emil, so I went with that. Same with Norway and Denmark, except for during Viking times, because Lukas is the Germanic variant of Lucas, which is also a name from Rome. And Matthias is a biblical name, being derived from the name Matthew.
> 
> Berwald is a last name. Sweden probably got it from Franz Berwald, a Swedish romantic composer. Still, not in use during Viking times. So I substituted it with Sigurðr, Magni, and Bergljót respectively. I didn't use Steilsson as a last name because in the Icelandic naming system if you are a male, your last name is just your father's first name with son slapped at the end. Steil is also, unsurprisingly, not an old Norse name. Or Icelandic name. The "far-off land" is Rome, since Emil is a name with Roman origins. I think Norway is the type of person who likes to travel far and explore in search of knowledge. The Vikings did travel a lot, and there is evidence they made it to Rome.
> 
> The nations use and are referred to by human names when in presence of humans. Nation names are used with bosses or formal situations involving other nations. When alone or with nations in an informal situations, it can vary.
> 
> I used the Icelandic writing for places and things such as the Alþingi instead of the Althing.
> 
> I like the idea that during the Viking age, the nations' presence was more well known, albeit not fully understood. It's actually what's hinted at in the anime, manga, and webcomics.
> 
> Historical events:
> 
> 930: The Althing, a judiciary and law-making body of chieftains, convenes for the first time at Thingvellir. It is now one of the oldest parliaments in the world
> 
> c.986: Erik the Red founded a permanent colony in Greenland that lasted a few hundred years before disappearing under mysterious circumstances
> 
> 999/1000: Iceland is officially Christianized
> 
> c.1000: Lief Erikson discovers Newfoundland
> 
> 1200s: Norway gains more control, eventually annexes Iceland
> 
> 1348: Black Death sweeps over Europe. The medieval folks at the time called it the Pestilence
> 
> 1382: Kalmar Union established
> 
> 1402: Black Death reaches Iceland
> 
> c.1540s: Reformation
> 
> 1707: Bubonic Plague
> 
> 1783: Volcanic activity destroys farmland and kills livestock
> 
> 1800: Althing closed.
> 
> 1843: Althing reopened
> 
> 1874: New constitution, Iceland granted partial home rule. Mass immigration to America
> 
> 1904: Home rule granted
> 
> 1914: WW1. Denmark, Norway, and Sweden stay neutral. Fun fact: People were celebrating at the beginning of the war. They were all eager to beat up the other side, and each side thought the war would be over in a few months. There were celebrations and happy waving for the occasion. Of course, it turned out to be a four year long mess of trench warfare, poisonous gases, and mental conditions like PTSD and shellshock, so uh...yay? They didn't know about those conditions back then, so some soldiers were actually shot for cowardice.
> 
> 1915: Women given the right to vote
> 
> 1918: Iceland gains full sovereignty
> 
> 1939: WW2
> 
> 1940: Denmark and Norway invaded by Germany. The British occupy Iceland "for their own good." Later, Canadian and American troops take over.
> 
> 1944: Republic of Iceland formally established
> 
> 1949: Iceland joins NATO
> 
> 1959-1970s: Cod Wars with Britain over fishing territory
> 
> 1980: Vigdís Finnbogadóttir elected president
> 
> 2006: US troops leave Iceland
> 
> 2008: Economic banking crisis
> 
> 2010: Eyjafjallajökull erupts
> 
> 2016: "We Are Number One" becomes a meme
> 
> Other stuff: Iceland can see the magical creatures, he just pretends not to in order to not seem weirder than he already is. This is actually canon.
> 
> Native America really should be series of personifications. The one Iceland and Norway met represents the natives of Vinland, the Inuit people. Vinland isn't Canada because no Canadian identity had been established at the time. That only came around when the French began colonizing North America.
> 
> Icelanders do eat puffins. Also, baby puffins are called pufflings.
> 
> Sweden shouldn't have his accent if he's talking in one of the Nordic languages. In fact, I'd argue that accent only exists when he's speaking in a language that's very different from the Germanic branch, like, OH I DON'T KNOW, JAPANESE?


End file.
